


self indulgent nonsense

by stratusdreams



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: BDSM mentions, Fluff, Other, Past Abuse, but its just brief mentions ya know, tags to be updated
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-28 05:54:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30134997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stratusdreams/pseuds/stratusdreams
Summary: A collection of shorts I've been working on, featuring my DC s/i and Jonathan Crane. The stupid evil psychiatrist man has my brain in a stranglehold, y'all.Will post specific warnings on individual chapters.
Relationships: Jonathan Crane/Self Insert
Kudos: 1





	1. Birds of a Feather

**Author's Note:**

> AU: Childhood Friends - Millie and Jonathan meet as kids.
> 
> This particular story uses the Year One continuity. CW: mentions of child abuse, bullying.

"Come back here, stupid!"

Millie sprinted off down the street, tears blurring their eyes. They could usually handle the constant taunts and mocking, but today, the bullies were too much. Katie and her gang had found Millie at the swingset and decided to harass them. The child was now running down Keeny Lane to try and escape their tormentors.

Keeny Manor rose formidably before them, and Millie shook with fear. They'd heard the stories about the manor, how it was cursed and filled to the brim with ghosts. The eleven-year-old glanced behind them, and when they saw Katie was still in hot pursuit, they made their decision. Ghosts, they could deal with. A clique of mean girls hellbent on ripping them to shreds? Not so much.

Millie took off around a corner, running into the field, praying that the bullies would lose track of them and give up. Somewhere between the pounding of their heart and the rustle of corn, they could hear Katie screaming at them, calling them names. They ducked behind a small building and hid behind a bush.

"Hey, fuckface, c'mon out!"

Oh god. The seventh grade boys were around this building.

Millie shrunk into the bush. They pressed their body against the shed and tried to stifle their whimpers of fear. 

From inside the shed, they could hear someone crying.

One of the boys -- Carson, from the sound of it -- kicked the shed, and the whole structure shook. "You fuckin' pussy! Little stick bitch! I should kill you!"

A fire began to burn in Millie's heart as the cries in the shack grew louder. Maybe Millie couldn't face their own bullies. But they could help whoever was trapped in this building. 

They picked up a rock and weighed it in their hand. It was solid enough, they thought. They quickly shoveled a few more rocks into their pockets. Millie wracked their brain for any information relating to the Keeny urban legend; everyone was afraid of ghosts, after all. Even shitty prepubescent boys.

Millie crept around the backside of the building, then threw one rock and screamed at the top of their lungs. "I AM ELIZABETH KEENY! GET OFF MY PROPERTY! OR I WILL HAUNT YOU!" 

The boys screeched in fear. Millie threw the rest of the rocks, continuing to holler about cursing the boys should they refuse to leave. One rock caught Carson right in the chest, and he fell to the ground, a wet spot forming on his pants. "D-don't kill me!! Fuck, fuck -- help!!" 

The commotion dissipated as the boys fled into the field. Once Millie was sure the seventh graders were gone, they went to the front of the shed and pushed the door open.

A scrawny, tired boy sat cowering by the wall, his brilliant blue eyes wide with fright as Millie stepped into the shack. "Who are you?" he whimpered, drawing his knees to his chest. "Are you… Are you with those guys?"

"Carson? Eww, no! I hate his guts!" Millie came closer; they felt a deep pang in their heart when he shied away. They sat down in front of him on the ground. "How was my act? I couldn't really remember the lady from the urban legend. I just guessed."

"That was you?"

"Yeah!" Millie grinned. "I hit Carson with a rock. He didn't even see me."

The boy was quiet for a moment. "That was pretty funny," he said.

Millie scooted closer, and the boy didn't flinch. "Those guys are so awful. They're in the grade above me, and I have to have gym and recess with them. Some of 'em are dating the girls who bully me."

"You get bullied?"

Millie's smile faltered. "A lot, yeah. The girls in my grade are really mean. Katie and her friends were chasing me so I ran here. I'm, uh, sorry. Sorry I ran into your field and started screaming." They rubbed a stray tear away from their eye. "This is your field, right?"

"Yeah. It's my field. Well, my great-granny's field." The boy untucked his knees from his chin. "I'm Jonathan. Jonathan Crane."

Millie had heard rumors about the Crane boy, but to be frank, they didn't even believe he existed. He didn't go to their school, and Millie had never seen him. "I'm Millie Bellamy." They reached out a hand, and Jonathan took it, shaking it gingerly. "It's nice to meet you, Jonathan. Or Jon? What do you like?"

"Jon is okay."

"Good! Then Jon it is." Millie smiled softly, squeezing his hand. "Is it okay if I sit here with you for a little bit? I don't know if Katie is still looking for me."

He glanced at a clock on the wall anxiously, then looked back at Millie. "For a little bit, yeah. You'll have to go soon, but… you can sit with me."

Millie leaned against the wall of the shack, their shoulder brushing Jonathan's. "So. Do you like… do you like ThunderCats?"

"ThunderCats?"

"Oh. My. Gosh. Okay, so, there's a kingdom called Thundera, and there's a bunch of cat people…"


	2. the thing about you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jonathan's POV, musing on the beginnings of our relationship.
> 
> CW: BDSM dynamics (brief mentions)

You are the strangest person I’ve met.

It’s not that you behave oddly, or speak with a quirky lilt. You make me feel ways I haven’t felt before. 

I remember when we first met in person. We’d been talking online for months, sure, but seeing you in the flesh was surreal. You are beautiful, and you’re most beautiful when you’re happy, not afraid. You smiled at me and took my hand. “Jon,” you said. “It’s so nice to finally meet you. You look so handsome! Even more handsome than in the photos!”

I took you home that night, and your touch was heavenly. The way your fingers threaded through my hair, the softness of your body against mine, the quiet moans I pulled from you like a harp begging to be played… The exhilaration was like no other. And when you curled up under my chin, your little head resting over my throat as you dreamed away, I did not want to harm you. I wanted to protect you. So the wolf rested his bloody chin over the lamb.

You give your trust so freely. I bind you, and you delight in the pain I offer you. You plead with me to be rough with your body and soul. You trust me not to hurt you. You don’t know the darkness that lies beneath the surface. Yet… You put a light inside me. Where evil grows, you cut through, and you planted yourself in its stead. It’s odd. I don’t want to be kind to others; I have never seen a point in it. No one showed me mercy until you came along. 

You tell me I’m funny, and that you appreciate how I respect you. You say that you love the way I hold you at night. You enjoy the care I provide you after our sessions -- baths, food, a cartoon of your choosing. You say I make you feel safe.

Safe.

That’s so odd. I am the master of fear. The terror creeping in the shadows. The Scarecrow. But to you, I’m Jon,  _ your  _ master, your boyfriend. I’m the man who picks you up after a long shift at the hospital and stands in the kitchen while you cook us dinner. I’m the man who kisses the bruises on your knees and keeps you close to me when we go on walks. You don’t see the monster I am. And to be frank, I don’t want to show you.

I came home late tonight after a night of research and torture. You’re asleep on the couch, wearing one of my shirts, your favorite stuffed animal -- a squishy pink moth -- tucked in your loving arms. You open your eyes sleepily. “Mmm? Jon?”

“It’s me, sweetheart,” I say, stroking your forehead as you sit up to greet me. “Let’s get you into bed.”

“Mmf. Okay.” You stretch, then stand, leaning against my body. “I missed you.”

“I can see that.” 

“Another night at the university?”

“The university, yes.” I feel a pang in my heart at the lie. I don’t enjoy lying to you, but it's a necessity. It’s odd. I can’t fathom a life without you, and if you knew the truth…

“Tell them to make their research meetings earlier,” you grumble as I lay you in bed. “I don’t like you being out so late… I just wanna cuddle…” As I strip out of my sweater and shirt, you grab for me. “C’mere.”

I crawl into bed and you take your place under my chin. You sigh pleasantly and fall asleep almost instantly. I stroke your back, and the wolf swears to defend the little lamb with his life.


End file.
